Migration of Tight Quarters An OBF
by TigerButterflied
Summary: When Greg and Sara attend a faraway conference together, nothing goes quite like expected. Finally finished!
1. Chapter 1

Migration of Tight Quarters (An OBF) 

I'm a long-time X-Files fan, and in that particular fandom there is a class of stories known as "Tight Quarters" or "one bed fic." These shipper stories involved the sharing of (duh) a bed, usually in a far-off motel. Now most of the Tight Quarters pieces were quite spicy, and many were well-crafted and all-around fun to read. The following tale is my attempt to drive the OBF bus over into CSI land. It's set in fifth season. Expect profanity, adult situations, senseless and absurd dialogue, bizarre situations, and all-around weird and dirty fluff. Realize that I do know I'm being very loose when it comes to keeping them in character. This one will be fairly short and possibly really stupid. Not mine, alas.

tightquarterstightquartestightquarters

I was angry, so much so that my voice was shaking. "It's not fair, Grissom. Catherine has gotten to attend three seminars this year, and Warrick and Nick just got back from their second one this year. I haven't had a seminar in three years. Tell me, when does it get to be my turn?"

Heavy, dramatic, long-suffering sigh. "Alright, Sara. you win. You can go." Grissom's voice was laced with annoyance. This seemed to be the rule these days, at least when he was talking to me. "You use vacation for the time you're gone. The lab will foot airfare, seminar costs, and your hotel and food for the duration of the seminar, but you and your travel partner will have to share a room. It's in Raleigh, North Carolina , it lasts three days, Saturday through Monday, and you'll be traveling out on Friday and back on Friday. Tuesday, Wednsday, and Thursday's costs are on you. Don't look at me like that; we got a deal on airfare. You ARE the one who wanted to go."

"I guess I can live with that. Who else is going?"

"Someone I already promised a chance to go. Someone who's never been." His voice was clipped. "Greg Sanders."

When I found Greg in the break room he was grinning like a trained chimpanzee. "Hey, Sara, guess what?" He turned his chair to fully face me. "In two weeks I'm going to a seminar, and one of the sessions is on the latest in DNA. It's in North Carolina, Sara! I can't believe Grissom is letting me go." His eyes were bright with excitement, and his knees were bouncing up and down. He reminded me of Tigger. It mystified me that a thirty-year-old man could be so utterly adorable. He was an attractive man, but when he was really happy to the point of spasticity he was cute in a puppies-and-stuffed-animals kind of way. No one over age six was supposed to be able to be like that. I had this weird urge to hug him.

I smirked into my soda. "Really? Who's going with you?"

"Umm, Warrick I think." He sighed. Everyone knew that Greg was not Warrick's favorite person. Like Grissom, Warrick made Greg nervous, and being nervous made Greg screw up, and that made Warrick mad, which, well, made Greg even more nervous. After a whole shift of this the results weren't pretty. The two of them really didn't need to work as a pair. Ever.

"That's not what I heard."

Greg frowned. "Please don't tell me Grissom's decided to go. I can't take five days in a hotel room with that man. He raises roaches and maggots, and he hates me."

I chuckled. "No, Greg, Grissom isn't going. It's worse. Much, much worse." I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I am."

"YES!" He leaped up and pulled me into a warm embrace. Guess one of us didn't believe in resisting weird urges. "I'm a happy man!"

I could tell he really was happy, and getting happier as the hug went on if you know what I mean. The worst of it was, he didn't seem at all embarassed by the situation. "I'm glad you're okay with this." I stepped back - we WERE in the breakroom after all. "We leave on Friday and return one week later, the next Friday morning. The seminar is Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. We have to pay for our own room and board Tuesday, Wednsday, and Thursday."

"Well, we're sharing a room, so that shouldn't be too bad." He grinned. "Think of it this way: Three whole days to explore an unknown state. North Carolina has beaches, Sara. Beaches!" He grinned happily. "Just think of it: You and me, soaking up rays..."

"Mmmm. It's March."

"Well, we can stay somewhere cheap with a kitchenette for the extra days. Don't sweat it, Sara. It'll work out."

offtotheseminarofftotheseminarofftotheseminar

"Got everything." Greg grinned triumphantly and pulled the cart of luggage over to where I was sitting. The flight had been full of turbulence, and I was shaky and a little nauseated by the time we reached RDU. Greg, ever gallant, had insisted I sit down while he collected our luggage from the baggage carousel. I looked up as I considered what a solicitous gentleman he was, and I immediately noticed he was looking down my shirt. Uh, scratch that thought.

"Itinerary says our limo driver will meet us inside the airport. We're to look for a man with a sign."

Greg grinned his Joe Cool grin. "Limo, huh? Oh, yeah, we're going first class after all. ..."

"I see it! Sidle/Sanders, right over there..." I pointed at a posterboard sign held by a tiny man near the door. "Some limo driver." The guy was dressed in stained jeans and a wrinkled flannel shirt - Frohike gone homeless, I thought with disgust, and took off toward our chariot driver.

"Sidle/Sanders... good last name," breathed Greg over the clattering cart.

"What?"

"Uh, I said Sidle/Sanders, got our names."

I smiled at Frohike, who leered back and locked his gaze on my chest. "Well, hello there. Are you from the Las Vegas Crime Lab?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"I'm Benny, your driver. Come on; I'll take you to your hotel."

The "limo" turned out to be a 1977 Pinto station wagon with "Benny's Limos" spelled out in gold stick-on letters on the front doors. Oh, yeah, Grissom had made sure WE traveled first-class. Nothing too good for his favorite crims.

"Catherine said she got a stretch limo for the whole conference last time." Greg's voice was hushed. "He hates us."

"At least the hotel is decent." The car backfired as we pulled up in front of the Omni, a sleek glass high-rise.

Greg nodded. "This is nice. 'Course, it's where they're having the conference. He didn't have a lot of choice." He grinned back at me. "And our limo is still farting. Let's get away from it as fast as we can. It sounds like it wants to explode."

I didn't argue. We got our luggage and room key and headed for the room. "Fourteenth floor, no less." Greg pulled the cart into the elevator. "And they have an indoor pool. Things are looking up, Sara."

"Let's see the room first. We may be sleeping in a broom closet." I ran the card key through the reader and opened the door. I felt for the light switch as Greg push the cart in and stepped around it. He sucked in his breath and looked at me, then back into the room.

"Shit." I took a deep breath. "One bed."


	2. Chapter 2

Migration of Tight Quarters (An OBF)  
Chapter 2 

Here's the dreaded second chapter. It will be as ridiculously pointless as the first, but it'll make up for that by being really vulgar. Not mine; if they were they'd run away.

Sara's face tightened. "Shit," she said softly. "One bed."

I looked at her, and then at the bed, then back at her again, then back at the bed. "It's a really big bed," I offered with a nod toward the offending furniture. "Really."

"I'm going to call the front office."

My bladder was seriously in need of relief, so I ducked into the bathroom and bled the lizard while she made the call. As unhappy as Sara was about the room my baser side really, really hoped they didn't have another one with 2 beds. I knew that sharing one was not a good idea. I mean, it's not like sleeping in the same bed with me was going to make her collapse into my arms, cream her panties, and beg me to take her, but I could dream. I shook my sleeping mongoose and tucked him back in, then stepped back into the room.

Sara was pissed. She had her lips pooched out and her jaw set, and her eyes were bright with fury. "They don't have any other rooms," she said softly.

"I could sleep on the floor."

She shook her head. "No, Greg, you can't. You know as well as I do just what's liable to be down there. You could get lice, or staph, or flesh-eating bacteria. I'm not letting you do that."

I looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Sara," I said softly. "I'm not going to mess with you. I do know how to keep my hands to myself, you know."

"I know, Greg. I'm not afraid of you; it's just that this looks really, really bad from a professionalism standpoint."

"Yeah, but this wasn't our idea. We didn't choose the room. Also, nobody but us knows about our situation here. No one else will, unless you decide to tell them."

"And it's basically a moot point since there are no other rooms available." She pulled a suitcase from the cart. "Let's get unpacked, shall we?"

Two hours later we sat in the hotel restaurant sipping a damned decent reisling as we waited for our dinner. "Hope the food's as good as the wine," I offered lightly, taking a sip from my second glass. "This is really good."

"Yeah. This is a pretty nice place, too." She looked around. "Wonder how many of these people are with the conference."

I shrugged. "No telling. Probably quite a few. "

"I was looking over the literature. I'm especially looking forward to the decomp seminar."

I wrinkled my nose. "The DNA session is the one I'm waiting for. Dr. West is the foremost expert in the field, you know."

Sara leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Greg, I was thinking. We have three extra days to kill after this thing ends."

"Yeah. I know. What do you have in mind?"

"You know, Raleigh is just 300 miles from Knoxville, Tennesee." She smiled wickedly. We both knew full well what was in Knoxville.

I grinned. "How will we get in?"

Sara's smile widened. "I have an old friend who teaches in the Forensic Anthropology Department at the University of Tennesee Knoxville." Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "I've asked Grissom so many times to take me to the body farm back home. Getting to visit the original and go over the research with Susan... Greg, it would be awesome, for both of us."

"We could rent a car," I said thoughtfully. "That would be our only real additional expense since we're paying for our own room those days to start with."

"Exactly! Greg, this is going to be GREAT..." Sara was grinning, GRINNING, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. We were going to have an adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

I have lied to you again. I said that this weird and ridiculous tale would be short, and it isn't. Here's another chapter, such as it is. Not mine. 

Turning In

Sara's version

Greg only snored a little, but he proved to be the most aggressive snuggler I'd ever shared a bed with. I awoke in the night wrapped in a tangle of warm Greg parts. He had both arms wrapped around me, pressing my face into his chest, surrounding me with himself and his warm scent. He had one leg over mine as well, and he had used it to pull the lower part of me closer. When I tried to extricate myself, he just moaned my name and pulled me closer. I gave up and surrendered to the situation. It had been too long since I'd shared a bed with a man, and I'd always loved the warmth and comfort of closeness, sometimes even more than I had the sex. With no man in my life, I might as well let myself enjoy this while I could. This was Greg, after all. If he woke up and found himself wrapped around me he wouldn't be upset, or feel used. I was probably playing with fire by giving in to this, but I knew I wasn't allowing something he wouldn't have wanted when he was awake. His warmth and the sound of his breathing were soporific, and I slipped back into sleep more easily than I had in a very long time.

I awoke to an empty bed the next morning. The sound of the shower told me where he was, and the smell of fresh coffee called me forth from the land of warm covers. I slipped out and began the day.

Getting up

Greg's version

When I first woke up I thought I was having an erotic dream since the object of my hottest fantasies was clutched in my arms. I was about to kiss her when I realized just where we were. I realized that I wasn't asleep, and concluded that unwrapping myself from my friend and mentor before she woke up might raise my chances of living to see my next birthday. Besides, since this wasn't a dream I really did need to get up and get a shower. Today was the first day of the seminar, and that DNA session started at ten...

Breakfast

Sara's take

"This is really good." Greg munched on a piece of French toast.

"Yeah, but the portions are huge." I pushed my plate over to his side of the table. "Here. I can't eat any more."

He grinned at me. Like a lot of skinny guys, Greg could put away an astonishing amount of food. "Suddenly I feel like a garbage disposal. I'd be insulted, but this looks really good."

I unfolded our schedule. "Let's see... we have the DNA session fromten to twelve, break for an hour and a half for lunch, then come back for the blood spatter talk at 1:30. That lasts until 4:30, then dinner break, and an optional two-hour video on weather and the crime scene in the auditorium from seven to nine. You know, it's less of a problem in Vegas, but I can remember in San Francisco there were quite a few times we lost the bulk of our evidence when it started raining as we were processing."

He frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, the weather there was definitely more unpredictible than in Vegas. There are real advantages to working in a desert. I'd like to catch that video if you don't mind."

I smiled happily. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Lunch

Greg's take

"So what did you think of the DNA session?" I raised my eyebrows as I asked the question.

"Very interesting, although I have a few things I'd like to ask you about later. I imagine you already knew most of what was presented."

I shrugged. "Ask me anything you like. I'd like being the teacher for a change." In truth I hadn't learned anything I didn't already know from the morning's lecture - not surprising, since it was aimed at CSI's, not the odd DNA tech with a Master's in genetics.

She smiled faintly. "I might have to do that." She shoved her salad around. "Okay, I have a question. Can you test anything but human DNA - like test dog hairs that have tags against the animal of a particular suspect, for instance?"

I nodded. "I can. The AKC actually does some DNA testing to ensure that breeders don't misrepresent their animals' bloodlines, or sell puppies from one dog and claim they're from another. They have a lab in Durham, which is about twenty-five miles away from here."

"Hmm. I'll have to remember that." She shoved her salad around the plate. "I'm really looking forward to our trip to the Body Farm."

I grinned. "So am I. I wonder why Grissom never let us go to the one back home..."

Sara shrugged. "I don't know, but all the others got to go. Grissom goes all the time, and he's taken all of them with him at one time or another."

"Probably circumstances. You work so much overtime, it's hard to catch you off work, you know."

She smiled. "Maybe. At any rate, we're going. "

I took a bite of my BLT. "That we are. We don't need no stinkin' bugman..."


	4. Chapter 4

I am back to torture you with yet another chapter... and no hurling rotten tomatoes. Little vulgar, but this is OBF, and I'm just a nasty kind of girl... 

Saturday night

Sara's version

The movie about weather and crime scenes was very good. The nicely chilled bottles of wine handed to us as we exited the auditorium were even better. Back in our room, I read the label as Greg changed into his nightwear - shorts and no shirt. "Hmm. Duplin Wine Cellars Carolina Red, made from Muscadine grapes. Interesting."

I opened the bottle and was pouring when he slipped up behind me and deposited his bottle on the table. "Scuppernong. We should try both." His eyes sparkled as he accepted the proffered glass - well, coffee cup; we were short on crystal. "This is good."

I took a sip of mine. "Wow! I think I like this. I'm not usually one for red wines, but this is nice."

"Yeah." He took a healthy swig and grinned. "Have I ever mentioned that I'm a horny drunk?" He padded over to the bed and patted a spot beside him. "Have a seat."

I raised an eyebrow and sat. "So, what's up for tomorrow?"

"Mmmm, decomp in the afternoon."

I grinned. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to that one."

"Morning's some lame policies, paperwork, and procedure crapfest. PLEASE don't tell me you want to go."

I screwed up my face. "Umm, no."

"You know, this hotel has a wonderful heated pool. I brought my swimsuit. Did YOU bring yours?"

I laughed. "Yes, I did."

"Is it a string bikini? Maybe a thong? Ooooh, I hope it is."

"It's a bikini. How about you, Greggo - do you wear a speedo?"

"Uh, no." He smiled and looked down shyly. "Not exactly my best style."

"Oh, I don't know... " I looked him over meaningfully. "I think you've got what it takes."

"Now how would you know that?" Oh, yeah, he was squirming now.

I took another long swig from my cup and dropped my voice. "I already told you, Greg - I saw EVERYTHING."

A vivid blush stained his cheeks. "Did- did you like what you saw?"

I grinned wickedly and looked him over. "Oh, yeah." I stood and headed for the bathroom. "Think I'll grab a shower," I shot over my shoulder.

Greg's version

"I already told you - I saw EVERYTHING..."

Damn, and that water was cold. I wasn't really the man I usually am, if you understand what I'm saying. But this is Sara, and she's smart enough to take that into account. I hope. "Did - did you like what you saw?" Shit, that came out sounding just a little too hopeful.

She checked me out slowly, her gaze lingering just a bit on my crotch. "Oh, yeah," she said huskily, her eyes bright with, what, hunger? Then she stood up and moved toward the bathroom. "Think I'll take a shower," she said airily.

And once again we will be sleeping in the same bed - Sara, me, and my hard-on. Shit, this woman is going to be the death of me yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Yeah, I know, OBF's are supposed to be really short. I'm making the chapters fairly short so I can get them up faster - also because I have ADD and the patience of a three-year-old. I know that having my characters play Truth or Dare is a fairly lame plot device that has been used in literally hundreds of fan fiction stories in the past. I don't care. They're gonna play Truth or Dare. They're gonna play it because I want them to play it, and they're gonna be drunk at the time, yet another overused plot device. Furthermore, if anyone gives me any shit I might make Sara and Greg visit South of the Border and stay at Pedro's. This would be a very ugly thing for me to do to them, very ugly, but I would do it. I really would. 

LATE Saturday night

Sara's version

After I showered and changed into my pajamas I discovered that Greg wasn't any sleepier than I was. "TV sucks, so what are we going to do" We were on our second bottle of wine at this point, so I was up for about anything.

Greg smirked and laughed, then shrugged. "We could play a game."

I raised my eyebrows. "What kind of game?"

"Strip poker."

"You really ARE a horny drunk. No strip poker. You're already wearing nothing but undershorts and a smile. I have an unfair clothing advantage."

"Yeah, but I cheat."

"No strip poker, Greg. Absolutely not."

"Strip Gin Rummy?"

"No."

"Strip Go Fish?" His voice was pleading.

"No strip anything." I thumped him on the arm. "Try again."

"Truth or dare."

Probably not a good idea. "No."

"Come on, Sara. Please?"

Damn, he had that puppydog look again. "Well..."

"PLEASE?"

The man definitely knew how to beg. Besides, I was curious."Okay."

"You can even go first."

"Okay..." I returned his wicked grin. This was playing with fire, but I'd had enough wine I wasn't going to let that stop me. Besides, I'd been looking at Greg Sanders in a whole new way since I started training him, and I liked what I saw. "Truth or dare?"

"I will start with truth."

"Boxers, briefs, or bare?"

"Boxers. Truth or dare?"

I laughed. "Truth."

"Alright, Sara. What's the weirdest place you've ever done the deed?"

I paused for a moment. "I would have to say the fitting room at Belks."

"The fitting room at Belks." He snickered. "I'm sure there's one hell of a story behind that."

"Yes, there is, but I'm keeping it to myself. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

I chewed my lip for a moment. I'd heard rumors about him; now I planned to get the truth. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

LONG pause. "Twenty-two. Almost twenty-three." He sounded embarassed.

"That's... that's a good age," I said finally.

"I'm glad you think so." He took another big sip of wine. "Truth or dare, Sara?"

"Truth."

"Are you wearing underwear?"

I smirked. "No, actually I'm not. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"How many women at the lab have you slept with? Not just the ones who are there now, I mean total since you've been there. Even the ones who have quit to go to work elsewhere."

Long sigh. "None," he said petulantly. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you... do you think I'm attractive?" His eyes searched mine. He was so vulnerable in that moment I very nearly leaned forward and kissed him.

I smiled. "Of course I think you're attractive. I'm not blind."

He blushed slightly and looked down.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"When you flirt with me, what do you mean by it?"

He shrugged. "What, ah, what do you mean what do I mean?"

"Are you just kidding, just trying to make me feel good?"

He swallowed hard. "Uh, no. Not just kidding, definitely not just being nice. Look, I know you might not ever be interested in me that way, and I would never, ever try to push you into anything, I respect and value you as a friend and person too much for that, but I can't honestly sit here and tell you that I don't want us to be more, or that I wouldn't be right there if you let me know you wanted that. Make no mistake, I AM very interested."

"Interested how?"

"As more than a friend." His expression was open. "More than just sex. That, too, but that's just one part of it. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why did you ask me what you just asked me?"

I squirmed. "I, uh, I wanted to know."

"Well, I know that; if you didn't you wouldn't have asked. Why, Sara? Why did you want to know?"

I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. I'd opened Pandora's box with my question, and I shouldn't be surprised that Greg called me on it. After bringing it up, I owed him the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

'Nother chapter. This one gets a little nasty. Be warned. 

Greg's version

"Why, Sara? Why did you want to know?"

She was silent for a moment, then she took a deep breath. "I guess since I brought the subject up I owe you the truth." She bit her lip. "Since I've been training you, I have seen a side of you that has absolutely blown me away. Lately, at times I've been, been thinking about you in a way that's, well, different."

"Different."

"Yeah, different from before. I wanted to know where you were coming from on this."

I chuckled. "Well, now you know."

"Yes, I do. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Um, no. Haven't been for a while. Job hasn't allowed for much of a personal life."

She chuckled. "Yeah, the CSI lifestyle makes that challenging."

"Truth or dare, Sara?"

She looked at me for moment. "Truth."

My heart was pounding. "If I... if I asked you out, on a date, what would you say?"

She looked at her hands. "I would say... I would say that I'm your mentor, that we work together, that it would be very against the rules as well as not a very good idea."

"Sara..."

"Then I would say yes. Just one more question. Truth or dare, Greg?"

"Dare," I whispered.

She turned and leaned forward, her face almost touching mine. "I dare you to kiss me," she whispered back.

Sara's version

"I dare you to kiss me." I had lost my mind; that I would even think of getting involved with a player like Greg Sanders was proof that I needed serious professional help. If I was playing with fire before, this was akin to juggling sticks of dynamite.

His eyes were dark and intense as slowly he rested the flat of his palm on my face and stroked his thumb over my cheek. I felt the whoosh of his breath as he moved slowly toward me. His lips stroked softly over mine before settling into a kiss that was far from chaste. My lips parted beneath his, and he slipped between them to tease my tongue with his. I wasn't expecting this, not this tsunami of sensation threatening to sweep me away as we slowly reclined on the bed and he settled himself above me. I dared him to kiss me alright, but he'd upped the ante into full-fledged seduction, and if I didn't apply the brakes NOW I wouldn't be doing so later. "Greg," I whispered, and pushed half-heartedly at his chest.

He moved back fractionally. "You want me to stop." He pulled away a little more and studied my face. "I'm sorry, Sara, I..."

"I don't WANT you to stop, but we'd better, before this gets out of hand." I sat up and smooth my hair. "I... that was ..." I just sighed.

"Yeah, I know." He grinned over at me. "Maybe we can play Truth or Dare again."

"Or maybe you could just kiss me again. Not now, though. We need to call it a night, and we DO have to sleep in the same bed."

His expression was pained. "Yeah, there's that."

I smiled. "Come on, Greggo. Let's get some sleep."

Greg's version

"Let's get some sleep." Only someone without a penis would see that as a possibility, I thought morosely as I lay on my side in the dark. Sometimes it sucked to be a man, and tonight was definitely one of those occasions. I would go take a RELAXING shower, but since I'd showered only a few hours before Sara would know immediately what I was doing in there, and the humiliation of that would be even worse than the throbbing between my legs. I rubbed one palm over Chester and sighed. He definitely had a mind of his own. I could only hope he calmed down soon.

Evidently I did eventually get to sleep, because I awoke to the sensation of Sara's breath feathering against my neck. I had her wrapped tightly in my arms, her face pressed against me. Her shirt had ridden up, and her breasts were pressed against my bare chest, but that wasn't the half of it. Chester was awake, and he'd somehow managed to escape from my shorts. He was nestled against Sara's crotch, and she was squirming against him in her sleep. Oh, yes, this felt too good; this was bad, scary bad, and unless I managed to extricate myself life as I knew it would soon be coming to a tragic end. Chester was happy, though; each time she moved he slipped into the leg of her pajama shorts just a little, and she wasn't wearing any panties. Getting out of this bed was very probably going to kill me, but I had to do it.

I pried myself loose and slunk into the bathroom for a little quiet time. I only hoped she didn't hear the water running.


	7. Chapter 7

Yet another installment in the apparently-never ending saga of the forensics convention from hell. From here on out we'll be earning the M rating and doing so in a big way. Won't be porn, probably about as strong as one of those bodice-rippers with the shirtless guy on the cover, but it's likely to get really strange and twisted. I'm just that kind of girl. 

Sunday Morning

Sara's version (Heated Swimming Pools)

When I woke up, Greg was huddled on his side facing away from me. This was a little disappointing since I'd enjoyed the power-snuggle of the morning before, but I figured he'd gotten hot and moved away from my body heat. With a sigh I got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. If we were going to blow off a lecture to hang out in the pool I wanted a full morning of it.

After showering I donned my swimsuit, a grape-colored batik bikini, and threw on a beach cover-up over it. The smell of coffee told me Greg was up even before I opened the bathroom door.

"Morning," I said with a smile."

"Hey," he offered back weakly.

"Hung over?"

"Nah. Just didn't sleep very well." He wasn't making eye contact, which was very unGreglike.

"What's wrong?" I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing. Just tired." He glanced at the clock. "Let me throw on my trunks and we'll go hit the pool."

We had the pool to ourselves. I threw my towel over a lounge chair and shucked the cover-up as well. I turned to Greg, who hadn't said a word since we'd left the room, and posed. "So what do you think?" I said airily. "Sports Illustrated enough for you?"

He actually gulped as he looked me over, and when his eyes met mine they contained a feral hunger that made me gasp. "Nice," he whispered. "Real nice."

Sunday Morning

Greg's version (Tormenting Her Student)

I really wasn't going to look. With last night's happenings branded into my fevered brain I really didn't need any more erotic imagery whizzing around in there. I kept my eyes to myself when I heard her taking off her robe-thing, was going to hop in the pool and wait until she was in with me to look at her, but she forced my hand. "So what do you think? Sports Illustrated enough for you?"

Of course I looked, and what I saw sucked the breath right out of my damn lungs. Her tiny string bikini was barely covering the essentials, and right below her navel she sported a pornographically-sensual purple orchid tattoo. My speech program very nearly short-circuited right there. I stood there staring and drooling for several minutes before I spoke. "Nice," I finally said. "Real nice." I graduated from Stanford at 20, with honors no less, and she can still reduce me to monosyllables with a swimsuit. I jumped into the pool, hoping the water would cover my response - and cool my rising ardor.

Late Sunday morning Sara's version (Planning an Adventure)

"We should get changed if we want to have time for lunch." Greg looked me over as he spoke, and his gaze was not the friendly, non-threatening variety I'd come to expect from him. No, this was different - he was looking at me like a dog does while it's watching you eat steak, a strange mixture of hunger and pleading. My heartbeat escalated when he actually licked his lips. It had been a long, long time since a man had looked at me like that, and I liked it, probably more than was healthy.

He was a little quiet at lunch, nodding agreeably as I laid out Monday's events. "In the morning is Evidence You Might Miss. After lunch we have several hours to ourselves to get ready for the banquet, which is from five to seven. They have dancing and open bar after that, but I guess they wanted to get it over early for everyone who was leaving out tomorrow."

"Probably."

"We'll leave out on our adventure very early Tuesday morning - and we need to pack tonight, because by early I mean by five at the latest. I got directions to the facility; Susan will meet us there at one, which will give us plenty of time to check the place out. Then, we can find a place to stay, talk about what we saw."

"I brought my digital camera. It's a good one, too."

"I'm definitely taking notes. After we get back we should combine our findings on the computer so that we can refer to them when we need to."

His eyes sparkled. "This is going to be so cool."

I chuckled. "I know. We'll be the only ones in the lab to have seen the ORIGINAL Body Farm - except maybe Grissom."

Greg just smirked.


	8. Chapter 8

The water is getting deep and dirty. Starting to earn the M here. Short chapter, for the meanness of it. 

Sunday Evening

(Greg's version)

We splurged for supper and caught a taxi to Royal India. The food was very good, and the atmosphere was romantic and soothing. Sara ordered Thali, a vegetarian sampler platter, while I decided on an unpronouncable dish that consisted of potatoes and peas in a sauce so hot that it singed my nasal hairs. Yes, I'd be paying for that in the restroom the next day for sure; better pick up a tube of Anusol on the way back to the hotel, because what goes in flaming comes out the same way.

"Try some of mine." I pushed my plate over to her. She smiled and served out a bit over her rice. "It's really good, but it's hot."

"Indian food generally is. It makes Mexican seem bland in comparison."

"I like it, though. I remember the first time I tried it I was in college. I was on a date, first date with a girl I'd been trying to get to go out with me all semester. I didn't know what to order, so when the waiter came I just picked something and pointed to it on the menu. When the food came I took a great BIG bite. Needless to say, I wished I hadn't. I tried to be Mr. Cool, not suck down a pitcher of water as the inside of my damn mouth was dissolving. I was brave and manly. My eyes were watering, though."

"How'd the romance end up?"

I snorted. "Took the 'just friends' exit ramp before the night was over. Made me wish I'd gone for that water pitcher."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, well, story of my life." I leaned forward. "We going to the banquet tomorrow?"

"Don't see why not - unless you'd rather skip it."

"Doesn't matter. "

"They're delivering the rental car tomorrow around noon." Her tone was airy. "We COULD go check out this place I heard a couple of people in front of me talking about instead. Unless you really WANT to go to the banquet."

"I don't exactly WANT to go, but I would, if you wanted to"

She grinned. "I want to blow it off. See, there's this weird tomb about thirty-five miles north of here. The guy's buried in a giant boulder."

"You mean IN the boulder, or under it?"

"IN it. They chiseled out a tomb, put him in, and sealed it. He was some sort of politician or something. They say there are other graves as well, like a family cemetary, and they're actually buried in the ground - but with a shelter built over them. "

"It sounds cool! Let's go."

She grinned. "You're as morbid as I am."

"We're CSI's, Sara. We're SUPPOSED to be morbid."

Sunday night

Sara's version

After my shower I changed into my nightclothes, a brief, silky little short pajama set. This one was one of my sexiest. It bared most of my belly, and the legs of the shorts were Daisy Duke short. As I brushed my hair I wondered why I'd brought it along. I'd known I was sharing a room with Greg, yet instead of practical long PJ's I'd only brought the slinky stuff. If I'd been travelling with Warrick or Nick I would have packed differently. I knew Greg was interested in me, so either I was a dyed-in-the-wool prick tease or I was subconsciously trying to deepen his interest. I needed to give this more thought.

I stepped out of the bathroom, and I watched his eyes darken as he looked me up and down, then averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed. My quickened heartbeat answered my question. I slipped under the covers next to him.

Sunday night

Greg's version

I don't know why, but Sara was definitely trying to kill me. Yes, Sara, I really needed another night of sleeping with a major boner. I jacked off in the shower an hour ago, but thanks to you he was back, and he wanted to be introduced. I was hopeful he'd go to sleep, but with her over there I wasn't expecting much.  
I sighed. closed my eyes. and hoped for the best.


	9. Chapter 9

This is where it starts earning the M. Short, for meanness' sake. I'll try to get another one out soon. 

Sunday night

Sara's version

Greg was on his side facing away from me, his breathing still ragged. He was clearly turned on, a fact that excited me. I should have ignored him, should have turned away and tried to find sleep. I should have done any number of things, anything but what I actually did.

"Greg," I whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah." Long pause, then he turned to face me. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you would... kiss me..."

That fierce, hungry look I saw earlier swept over him, and he licked his lips. "You sure that's a good idea?" he asked softly, moving toward me as he spoke.

"No, I'm not, but I want it. If you do."

"You know I do." This said against my lips, right before he covered the in a soft, probing kiss. I parted my lips, and his tongue slipped in as the kiss turned hot and hungry. I answered him eagerly, my tongue stroking over his as he explored my mouth. Sensual fire spread through me. I could feel him pressed insistently against my hip, and it inflamed me that I affected him like this. He moved his lips to my ear, my neck, and I moaned helplessly. "Oh, Sara," he whispered against my tender throat. "You don't know what you do to me." He grasped the edge of my top and slowly moved it upward to bare my chest. Then he slipped down and rained kisses across my breasts, then gently suckled first one, then the other.

I was gasping and moaning within minutes, the rising tide of arousal within me an overwhelming force. It was so overwhelming, in fact, that the ringing of the telephone almost didn't register, and once it did the damned thing had stopped ringing. Greg pulled back for a moment, and I was about to pull him backto mewhen my cellphone started tweeting like some kind of deranged canary. I sat up, pulled my shirt down, and grabbed it off the nightstand.

"Sidle," I snarled.

Long pause. "Well, hello to you to, Sara." Grissom, of course; his voice smug and a little surprised. "I was going to ask you how things were going, but it doesn't sound like that would be a good idea."

"Things are going fine, Grissom. I was just busy." Greg got up off the bed, emitting a loud telltale squeak as he did so. Another moment and he was in the bathroom.

"Sounds like it. Well, I'll let you go get back to, um, whatever it was you were doing then. I'll see you two Saturday night."

"Fine. Buh-bye." I pushed the END button and threw the cellphone on the bed. "Damn it!"

Sunday night

Greg's version

Next time I see Grissom I swear I'm going to shove a cellphone up his ass. Better yet, maybe I'll find one of those old-fashioned rotary ones and use that. I swear the man is psychic, because I was just getting ready to send one of my hands on a nice slow southern reconnaissance mission when bam, Grissom calls. I should be extensively exploring her sweetest places right now, but no, here I am taking an ice-cold shower. Thanks, boss. I really thought the Pinto limo was you giving us your worse, but you managed somehow to step it up another notch.


	10. Chapter 10

Still earning that M - though probably not much hotter than one of those thick romance books with the shirtless Fabio-looking dude on the front cover, it may be more disturbing (disturbed? probably more accurate), and they'll swear more often and much more colorfully. Anyhow, here goes.

Late Sunday night

Greg's version

After I toweled off I donned my boxers again and made my shivering way back to bed. I wasn't comfortable, but at least Chester wasn't standing up saluting any more. No, the water had been so cold he was shrunken up like a raisin, and my balls were drawn up so tightly I swear they were touching my diaphragm. Anyone seeing me nude at that point would think I was hung like a one-year-old. Sara was asleep, or pretending to be asleep by the time I made my way to bed, so I concluded that Grissom's voice had left her disinterested in what we'd been doing before the phone rang. This cheerful thought in mind, and my heart and pride both in shreds, I slid under the covers and settled on my side. This time I was facing her, just in case I was mistaken.

I didn't fall asleep terribly quickly or easily, but once I started counting telephones flying up Grissom's butt I did finally drift off. I hadn't been asleep for very long when my dreams turned really, really weird. My dreams were coming true - Sara was in my arms kissing me, our tangled bodies rubbing together until we both were panting, both of us trying to take it slowly but we knew, KNEW that this time we'd be taking it all the way. Then I woke up, and reality almost took my breath away.

Sara WAS kissing me, and we WERE tangled together, and her eyes were open. "Hi," she said, smiling wickedly. 

Late Sunday night

Sara's version

I knew what I was going to do when I heard Greg's sad sigh. I'd been half-asleep when he'd slipped into the bed next to me, but that sigh woke me up all the way. Now I had seduced a few men before in my life, but never for a first encounter, so it took me a bit to figure out just how I was going to do it. By the time I had my strategy mapped out, I heard a soft snoring coming from Greg's side of the bed. I smirked. This was going to be easier than I'd thought.

He looked so sweet and innocent in sleep I felt guilty for a moment, considering what I was planning on doing to him, then I realized that in Greg's case innocence headed for the hills once he woke up, so I began my seduction of him with a clean conscience. After all, I reasoned, he had been seducing me only an hour before. It seemed only fair.

I was careful not to wake him as I snuggled close. His arms wrapped around me, and when I brought my lips to his he gave a little moan. His lips parted under mine, and his hips moved spastically when I rubbed myself against him. Yes, someone was awake down there, alright. This went on for a few minutes, until he gasped abruptly and opened his eyes.

He pulled back a tiny bit and looked at me. I smiled sheepishly. "Hi," I said as matter-of-factly as I could manage.

He looked at me for a moment, a faint hint of a smile on his lips. "Hi yourself," he said finally. "I see you thought we had a little unfinished business, too."

"Mmmm-hmmmm."

He lowered his face to mine then, his lips covering mine and parting them. His tongue plundered my mouth as his hands stroked delicatelystroked every inch of my skin. He was unhurried, his feather touch stoking the flame inside until I was lost in his amazing sensual assault. Never would I have imagined he would be like this, so sultry and tender as he slowly turned my blood to fire. Somehow I ended up on my back, my top on the floor, Greg cradled between my legs as he slowly ground against me. His dick had somehow slipped out of his underwear; I gasped as I felt him throb hot and bare against my upper thigh. He rubbed himself over my crotch, skin to skin but for the fragile silken barrier of my pajama shorts. I gasped at the feel of him sliding against my most sensitive place, at knowing he could feel my liquid heat seeping through to dampen him. "I've been thinking about this for five years," he whispered huskily. "Please don't make me stop."

In answer I pulled him down into a kiss, and he responded fiercely, sucking my lower lip between his. One deft hand slipped into my shorts and found my sweet spot, setting up a rhythm that rendered me incapable of further speech. He groaned and shuddered when finally I slipped my hand around him, and his hands trembled as he pulled my shorts off and positioned himself to nudge my opening. "Oh, yes," I whispered, and he gently pushed into me, beginning the primal dance we both desperately needed. Afterward we held each other, sweaty bodies still joined, until we both slipped easily into sleep. 


	11. Chapter 11

This chapter's short; next one will be more eventful, I promise... 

I woke up feeling better than I had in years. Sara was snuggled up to me, her head on my chest, and from my sore musceles and our shared state of undress I knew that what I remembered from the night before was much more than a dream. Oh, yes - the previous night definitely had been one of the high points of my life, even better than graduating high school valedictorian at sixteen , or winning the state chess championship, or graduating from Stanford with honors. All of that paled next to feeling Sara Sidle come apart under me.

I was shaken from my thoughts when she stirred in my arms and opened her eyes. "Hi," she said softly, her lips curling into a shy smile. "You're naked."

"Yes, I am. So are you. And it's the morning after," I said quietly, stroking her hair. "Any regrets?"

"None at all. How about you, Sanders?"

I chuckled. "I've been trying to get you into my arms for years - what do YOU think?" I kissed her, then pulled back slightly. "Last night was mind-blowing."

She smiled wickedly. "It was amazing, alright."

I nuzzled her neck. "So the big question is, where do we go from here?"

"Mmmmm... that depends... where do you WANT to go?"

"I want to go with it, see where it takes us. This is more for me than the physical - although that part was wonderful..." I shook my head. "I want to be a big part of your life."

"So we'll go with it - but when we go to work, we leave it at the door. We have to be professional about this."

I nodded. "I agree. Our working relationship has to stay separate from our personal one, or both will suffer. What?"

"I don't know, I just thought you might have a problem with that."

I shook my head. "Don't see why I would."

She smiled. "Glad we're coming from the same place."

I stroked her cheek. "I'm just glad we have a personal relationship to keep to ourselves. I've never been anyone's secret lover before. I feel special."

She chuckled. "I'm happy for you, but if we want to make the last session we need to get up."

"Yes, it would be a shame to miss 'Evidence You Might Miss.'"


	12. Chapter 12

Greg's story

Tennesee's Smelliest Gated Community

"This is it." Sara turned to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The original Body Farm. And there's Susan."

Sara was grinning like a seven-year-old who just found out she was getting a pony. "So this is it." I wrinkled my nose. The smell made clear what was behind the chain-link fencing. "Got my camera."

She grinned. "Good! Never know when this stuff might help us."

"Sara! Good to see you again!" Susan pulled Sara into a hug, then looked over at me and extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Susan Ross, by the way."

"Greg Sanders." I smiled and took a deep breath. "Sara and I, we, uh, work together."

"Of course. Well, come along, then. You're both in for a treat. This place is fascinating."

thebodyfarmoooohthebodyfarmoooohoooohoooooh

An hour and a half later, we were back at the front gate. "So how do we compare with the Vegas installation?" Susan glanced at Sara as she snapped the padlock closed.

Sara sighed. "Don't know. I haven't gotten to see the Vegas Body Farm."

Susan frowned. "If you ever get the chance you should go. So many factors vary by region - temperature, precipitation, humidity, insects. You should visit the closest one on a regular basis, keep abreast of developments."

"We'd like to; it's an issue of access." Sara looked over at me and dropped her eyes.

"You know I have a contact at the university there. I can get you access, maybe get you into one of her classes." She glanced over at me. "Both of you, if you'd like."

"Yes! I mean, of course." Sara looked at me, and I grinned and nodded. No criminalist in his right mind would turn down that kind of offer.

"Call me when you get back to Vegas, and we'll make sure you get in."

Sara smiled over at me as she belted herself in. "That was great, Greg."

"It WAS fascinating. I'll be interested to see the differences in decomp times and insect flora at the Vegas facility."

"Yeah. I'm sure there will be differences."

"We staying in Knoxville?"

"Actually, I was wondering if we could get a little further up the road...like maybe take 81 up to Roanoke, get a room somewhere near there. We have three days, and we're in the mountains. We have the car, so why not take a little road trip?"

"So maybe head on up 81, catch the Blue Ridge Parkway up to the Skyline Drive, then make our way back to Raleigh at our own pace. Our first vacation together - sounds romantic." I grinned over at her. "Let's go for it."

"It's three-thirty now. If we stay in Roanoke we could be on the Parkway first thing."

Sara's Story

A Holiday Inn With Jacuzzi

It was really my fault. By the time we reached Roanoke and our hotel my bladder was screaming. "You're doing the pee-pee dance, Sara. Go find a bathroom and I'll get us checked in."

He was leaning against the wall across from the restroom when I exited several minutes later. He looked me up and down slowly, then held up a card key."Got the room," he said with a smirk, then grabbed both of our bags. "Let's go."

We were on the fourth floor, and our room sported one very large bed. I glanced shyly at it. "Nice," I said softly.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet." He dropped our bags, then pulled mr toward the bathroom. "I got us an upgrade, which I am paying for."

"A jacuzzi."

He grinned. "Yeah. What do you think?" He pulled me into his arms. "Ever do it in a jacuzzi?"

"Can't say that I have."

"We could change that."

"Mmm-hmm..."


	13. Chapter 13

This one's short. Hope you like it! 

I threw the last of our suitcases into the trunk, slammed it shut, and looked back at Sara. She was leaning against a tree, coffee cup in one hand, purse in the other. She smirked at me. "So what's the game plan?"

"I was thinking of taking you out to breakfast at Peaks of Otter, then see what we think of the place. The place has a lodge. It's operated by the Parks Service. We could get a room there, explore the area, maybe head down to some of the nearby mountain attractions. That would leave tomorrow and Friday to work our way back toward Raleigh. Our plane doesn't leave until late Friday night, and the place is maybe 200 miles from Raleigh."

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan." I slunk over to her and wrapped my arms around her, leaning just enough as I did so to gently press her against the gnarled tree trunk. I dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "I'm glad we have this. There are so many pressures on us in Vegas, so many other directions we're going to be pulled in when we get back," I said softly. "We needed this - a little stretch of time to become an 'us.' Sort of like a honeymoon."

"Yeah, only without the wedding."

I shrugged. "The principle is the same, though - time and space away from the needs and expectations of outsiders, a chance for true intimacy to begin to take root."

"You're mighty philosophical this morning, Greggo."

"Mountain air has that effect on me."

"Really. Funny, it just makes me hungry."

I grinned. "Then let's get going. I make it my business to see to ALL of your needs."

An hour later we were eating pancakes and enjoying one of the most impressive mountain views around. "We should definitely stay here." Sara smiled over at me. "This is wonderful."

"We can check in as soon as we're done, then." I looked out the window at the lake, then over at the mountain. Pastel flowers dotted the bushes and lawn in front of the lodge, and across the lake a deer and fawn had stopped to drink at the edge. I felt like I'd stepped into a picture postcard. This was WAY more romantic than Niagara Falls. "Brochure says they have trails." And I had great hopes that we'd be finding them VERY romantic, if you understand my meaning. Nothing like love in the great outdoors, after all.

"We'll have to check them out after we get settled in."

We checked in, got trail maps, and decided on a fairly easy (for mountain hiking), very secluded two-mile trek. Maps in hand, we set off on our journey. I walked a little behind her, watching her ass move as she climbed the gradual incline. Yes, hiking in nature could be very stimulating indeed.


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry this is so long in coming. I've been slack about updating lately. I promise you, this and my other stories WILL be finished - might take a while, but I won't leave you hanging.

Sara's turn

(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman

So we hiked up the mountain pretty slowly, stopping several times to suck down water and admire the scenery. Those were MY reasons for stopping, at least. From the bulge in Greg's pants and the way he was looking at me I suspected he had a little more than nature walking in mind. He'd pinned me to a tree and started kissing me senseless the last time we'd stopped, and this time he was circling me, his expression like that of a coyote eyeing a lamb. "It's beautiful here. So ... natural."

I chuckled. "Well, Greg, we ARE in a national park. On a nature trail, no less."

He smirked. "Yeah, well... being here in nature, it just makes me want to explore all those natural feelings we have for each other. Ever make love outdoors, Sara?" He pulled me into his arms and nipped my earlobe.

I snickered. "Does the back seat of a car count?"

"No. Inside a car makes it indoors."

I chuckled. "Spoken like a true outdoor-coupling expert. If cars don't count, then no, I haven't done outdoors before."

His breath whispered against my neck, making me shiver. "Then you've missed one of life's great experiences." He slipped one hand under the hem of my shirt and let it travel up my back to the snap of my bra. "I want to make love to you under open sky, on a carpet of leaves." He toyed with the hooks, undoing all but one.

"It's broad daylight, Greg. Anyone could see us." I blushed furiously, as much from arousal as from embrassment.

"But they won't. Know why, Sara? We're all by ourselves. This is a remote trail, and it's off-season, and it's the middle of the week. Nobody's going to just amble by."

"But suppose they do?"

"Then we'll let them watch." He smiled at the hitch in my breath. "But nobody's out here but us, so that isn't going to happen."

"But it could." My heart accelerated at the thought.

"Yeah, there's that chance. But the risk is part of the thrill." He slid his hand around to my chest and rubbed my breast through my lacy bra. "Look, when we get back to our everyday lives we're going to have all the burdens we left back in Vegas strapped right back onto us, but right here, right now in this moment, we're free to do what we really want to do, and Sara, I think what you really want to do is help me spread out our blanket and let me lay you down on a pillow of leaves and make love to you right here with the sun shining down on us." He bit his lip. "So what do you say? We going to unfold that blanket?"

I swallowed hard. "Yeah. Yeah, let's unfold it."

This was nothing like my previous "adventurous" tumbles. This was no fumbling, hurry-we-might-get-caught quickie. We both undressed all the way, and Greg's touch was gentle, unhurried, unashamed. All thoughts of possible interruptions fled when finally we came together, Greg looking into my eyes as he slipped in and out of my body. "I love you," he whispered softly. "So much."

Afterward, he traced the edges of the sunbeams lighting my skin and nuzzled into my neck. "We should get dressed. It's chilly," I whispered.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked me over one more time, then handed me my clothes. "Sara?"

"Yeah, Greg?" I pulled down my shirt as I spoke.

"What I said before, that wasn't just the heat of the moment. I meant it. I've felt that way for a while. Just wanted you to known that." And with that, he held out his hand and pulled me up.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry I'm so slow in updating. Real life has been crazy. I do promise to finish this, however. One or two chaps left.

Characters ain't mine.

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Greg's turn

(Back in Vegas)

"So, Greggo, how was your first convention? " Grissom's expression was smug as he studied me.

"It was very educational." I smiled over at Sara, who looked down at Grissom's desk, apparently fascinated by his desk blotter. "Very life-altering."

Grissom's brows rose toward his hairline. "Life-altering, Greg?"

"I think what he means is that we absorbed so much knowledge and information that our way of approaching things is bound to be changed. Right, Greg?" Sara's foot nudged my shin.

I held Grissom's stare. "Of course, Sara. That's exactly what I was saying."

"Hmm. Well, good." Grissom turned his attention to Sara. "I hope you too didn't get too bored after the convention. I know that when you're stuck in a strange city time does seem to drag."

I bit my lip to avoid laughing. "We, um, managed to keep ourselves occupied," Sara stammered out.

"Well, good." Grissom glanced back at me and smiled. "I would've thought you'd have been at each other's throats by the time you got back to Vegas."

"We weren't that," I said evenly. "I would go so far as to say that we actually enjoyed one another's company, wouldn't you, Sara?"

"Yes, I, um, I think that we got along extremely well."

"Evidently VERY well." Grissom's brow's were furrowed as he studied Sara, and I followed his gaze to a small, vivid hickey decorating the side of her neck, toward the back but plainly visible since she was facing me. He looked at me then, his expression challenging. "Anything to add?"

"Not really." I smiled over at Sara. "The convention was very helpful. I'm just eager to apply everything we learned to real cases."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "Very well. I guess we all need to get to work, then, don't we?"

Back in the Denali, Sara let me have it. "Life-altering, Greg? Life altering!?"

I shrugged. "It came into my mind, and then it came out of my mouth."

"Well, you need to install a governor between the two. He suspects something now, you know."

I shrugged. No way was I going to tell her that the mark I'd left on her neck had taken Grissom's suspicions a lot further than my stupid comment had - not that I minded. I was feeling a little territorial, and Freud would have laughed at my assertion that I hadn't meant to leave a mark. "He's a perceptive man, Sara. The energy between us is different. People are going to suspect, here and there."

She frowned. "I know that, but I'm training you. We agreed that we'd keep things between us private."

"And they are. No funny business at work, no grand declarations. We'll exercise discretion." I covered her hand with mine. "For now."

She nodded. "Any more foot-in mouth episodes and I'm having you fitted for a muzzle." She elbowed me gently. "That mouth is dangerous."

"You weren't complaining last night."

"GREG!"

"I'm sorry. I will try to behave myself and watch what I say, okay?"

I shot her my most pathetic look. It must've worked, because she chuckled. "Make sure you do that, Greg. We have to keep our professionalism here."


	16. Chapter 16

Getting close to the end here. Maybe one or two to go.

Sara's Version

(Secret Lovers? Not!)

Time passed. In late April Greg passed his test, making him a full-fledged CSI 1. Our budding "Let's see where this goes" had blossomed into a full-fledged "Whose place are we crashing at tonight?" by the end of May. Catherine was the first to notice.

"So, Sara, what's going on with you and Greg?" Her tone was matter-of fact.

"What... what do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing... it's just that I pass both your places on my way to pick Lindsey up after school, and I've been noticing that lately his car is usually in front of your apartment. When it's not, yours is in front of his."

"It's, uh, we're really good friends, and we like to spend time together. We, um, we watch movies. We rent them, and we watch them." I smiled inanely. I have always sucked as a liar.

"Really. Hmm." She sounded unconvinced. "He's usually there when I drop her off in the morning as well."

"Lots of quality time really is important in a friendship."

"I see. Well, have fun then, with Greg and the, ah, movies."

A few weeks later I groggily answered the tweeting cellphone next to the bed. "Sidle," I husked nastily.

"Sara! Um, hi." Warrick Brown, his voice confused, began to chuckle. LONG pause. "Any particular reason you're answering Greg's cell phone?"

I shook my head and glanced at the snoring man beside me. "Um, yeah. He's here; we were just watching a movie..."

"A movie. Really." He was still laughing, and I could tell from his tone of voice he knew this was bullshit. "I hear snoring."

"Yeah. We, um, we fell asleep during the movie."

"Riiiight. Alright, then. Do you think I could speak to Greg for a moment?" I jostled Greg and handed him the phone.

Two weeks later, Greg and I were asleep in his bed when we were aroused by a knock at the door. He got up, closing the door behind him, and when he returned to bed a half-hour later he was chuckling. "That was interesting," he said against my neck.

"Who was it?"

"Nick. He was on his way to a sports bar, wanted to see if I'd like to join him." He nuzzled my neck. "I think he knows why I declined."

"You told him?"

"Didn't have to say a thing. Your car's out front, right next to mine. Better than that, remember what we did out there right before we went to sleep? Your clothes are on the arm of the sofa. He stared at them the whole time. He wasn't happy, Sara."

"Shit."

"Yes, that shirt you wore last night is pretty distinctive, and although he wouldn't recognize your panties he couldn't miss the fact that they were draped across the shirt. The evidence never lies.Yeah, he knows. He didn't say anything, though, just looked at your clothes, looked at the bedroom door, then looked at me. Add his input to what Catherine and Warrick have already seen, and our realationship is now public knowledge. Look, Sara, we basically live together, even if we aren't really calling it that yet. It's a little absurd to think we could keep this a secret, don't you think?"

I was silent for a moment. He had a point.

"Are you ashamed? I mean, that you're with me?"

"No! Why would I be? My main concerns about this have always been related to our sense of professionalism. And we really DID need to keep quiet while I was training you."

He pulled me closer. "We did. But you aren't training me any more."

"No, I'm not."

"And there are no rules regarding personal relationships between CSI's, now are there? So as long as we behave professionally while we're at work, this isn't affecting our job performance. We can be a public couple without repercussions."

"Since that's what we are now, that's good." I ruffled his hair. "Might make things easier, now that I don't have to worry about concocting weird excuses for why you're at my place."

"Good. Now come here..."


	17. Chapter 17

And now for the long-overdue ending to a ridiculous story that ended up WAY longer than intended. Very silly all around, with a bizarre yet sappy and absurdly inane cliche ending. Migration of Tight Quarters: The Epilogue 2015 

"Ten years." Greg Sanders leered at the greying brunette who was currently leaning against a wall engrossed in conversation with one Mandy Stokes. "We've been together for that long and she just keeps getting hotter."

Nick Stokes chuckled, running a hand over his barely-fuzzy scalp. "Gotta hand it to you, Greggo; you two were a surprise. The odds were against you, but you got the girl."

"Didn't do too badly yourself, I see. You two are quite the old couple yourselves."

"Yeah, once you two went public we decided to take a chance. Beat you two to the altar, too." Nick took a sip of his drink and smiled thoughtfully. "And here we are, ten years and seven kids later."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "You always did have to outdo everyone else. I honestly don't know how you two manage. Sara and I are going crazy with one kid, and you have a houseful."

Nick smiled slightly. "We love it, but our house is crazy, I'll give you that. Probably why most of my hair's fallen out."

"When are Catherine and Warrick supposed to get here?"

Nick shrugged. "Any time now."

Greg chuckled. "Were you surprised?"

"What? By Cath and Warrick hooking up? Nah. I WAS surprised when they won the lottery, quit and moved to Hawaii, though. Lucky dogs."

"Yeah. The man always was luck on two feet."

Nick shook his head. "But that's the thing - Catherine is the one who bought the ticket."

"With Warrick standing beside her. And while they're here, we're taking Mr. Lucky Charm out to the 7-11 for a lottery ticket run of our own. I could stand a little early retirement in a tropical paradise of my own."

"Greggo, you are the most superstitious person I know."

"I'm not superstitious, Nick. I just am willing to see patterns, and Warrick Brown brings with him a sweeping pattern of good luck."

"I take it back - you aren't superstitious - you're just weird."

"I will definitely attest to that." Sara Sidle-Sanders, now standing before them, looked from Greg to Nick and back again. "You ARE weird."

"And yet you married him."

She shrugged and grinned. "I like his weirdness."

Nick glanced pointedly at her burgeoning belly. "I can see that."

Sara smacked him lightly on the arm. "Hey, you two have another one on the way yourselves. Mandy's due next week. You're only a week behind us."

"And it's twins this time." Mandy waddled heavily over and flopped down next to Nick, shooting him an accusing glare. "I still have shoes. Guess I should be happy for that."

"And you're so cute with the little baby tummy," Nick cooed, then patted her bulging belly. "So adorable. I LOVE the little baby tummy."

"You MUST like it. You keep getting the poor woman knocked up." Greg snickered at his own humor.

"GREG!" Sara shot him a dirty look. "I don't think that at this moment in time you have any room to talk."

"Yes, well, this is the LAST time." Mandy's voice was firm, yet whiny.

"Maybe." Nick's voice was cajoling.

"No, not maybe. The tubal ligation fairy's going to take care of it this time."

"We'll talk about it later."

"And there's Warrick and Catherine." Greg jumped up and frowned slightly. "And Grissom. I think."

"I thought he was in Bora-Bora researching the tsetse fly." Nick peered toward the door. "He looks strange in a long beard and a ponytail."

"And someone should've told him that wearing a turquoise floral top with lime green plaid shorts is always an unfortunate choice." Greg shook his head in amazement. "And he used to get on ME for MY shirts."

"Yeah, well, now that you mention it they were pretty hideous. Just sayin'."

"NICK!" Warrick wrapped Nick in a bear hug, nearly lifting him from the ground. "How the hell are you?"

"Pretty good, Warrick. Pretty damn good."

"Damn, Nick, looks like Mandy's been feeding you pretty well. You two look like bookends."

Nick shrugged. "What can I say? How are you guys doing?"

Warrick shrugged. "No complaints. We made some investments when we left Vegas, and they're doing pretty well. Lindsay just got engaged. She's still teaching, still living right outside of Boulder."

"Grissom!" Nick held out his hand, then changed his mind and threw his arms around the older man. "How the hell have you been?"

Grissom looked at Sara, glanced down at her belly, then looked at Nick. "Quite well. The research has been going even better than I'd hoped." He paused for a moment. "And how have you been?" He looked from Nick to Warrick to Sara to Greg. "You're all looking well."

"We are. I'm night shift supervisor now." Nick's voice held more than a little pride. "And Greg's a CSI 3."

"Very good. Sara?"

"I'm, um, I've been working part-time since Anna was born." She smiled tightly. "For now that works."

"I see." He glanced at her belly. "And you're having another one. Congratulations." He glanced around, then looked at Warrick. "So how's retired life in Hawaii?"

Warrick grinned. "It's great. Cath and I have been doing quite a bit of diving, checking out some of the reefs. It's amazing."

"I'm sure."

"You ever hear from Brass?"

Grissom shrugged. "Once in a while. After he and Sophia moved to Alaska, they stopped writing as often. Last I heard the security firm they were starting was doing very well."

Warrick shook his head. "Shame about Ellie."

"Yeah, well, we knew things weren't likely to go well for her unless she changed. In four more years she'll get another chance. " Grissom's eyebrows shot up when he spied Mandy waddling from the restroom. "NICK! Again?"

Nick chuckled. "Again. Twins this time."

Grissom frowned. "And this will make...?"

"Nine, actually."

Grissom actually looked shocked. "Wow. I see." Long, meaningful pause. "Well, you must have quite a bit more free time than I did when I was night shift supervisor."

"Not so much. I just don't have all those bugs and, um, other strange things to take care of."

"NICK!" Mandy was holding the back of the sofa, her expression tense. "I think we might need to go now."

His expression brightened. "Is it time?"

She nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah."

Nick looked around and smiled. "We're off to Desert Palms."

"Meet you guys there." Greg grinned at Warrick. "You know how he gets."

"I was only around for the first three, but yeah, he gets pretty spastic. Of course, from what I hear, so do you."

Catherine jangled her keys. "Let's move this party to a new locale. This is probably going to progress pretty quickly."

lateratthehospitallateratthehospitallateratthehospital

"Two more little boys. Little Gilbert and Warrick Stokes. I think they look like Nick." Catherine nudged Warrick. "Don't you?"

"I don't know. I'm seeing more of Mandy in them myself."

Greg leaned over and whispered in Sara's ear. "I think they both look suspiciously like Hodges."

She started laughing, then doubled over and moaned. "Oh, shit. Guess I'm in the right place for it."

"Are you okay?" Greg held her hand. "Are you about to...?"

"Yeah, I think I need to amble on down to triage and get checked in."

"YES!" Greg beamed.

Warrick grinned. "Alright! A double feature!"

"Greg, call your mother." Catherine's voice was firm.

"I will, but we should have time."

"Famous last words, Greg. You need to go with her to triage. I'll call your mother for you." Grissom smiled. "I'd like to give her good news just once."

fourhourslaterfourhourslaterfourhourslater

"Three boys in five hours. I think that's a department record." Catherine reached for the squealing pink newborn. "Little Olaf Gregory Sidle-Sanders. Quite a bit smaller and MUCH more vocal than Gilbert and Warrick Stokes."

Warrick chuckled. "Guess there really is something to genetics, huh?"

"They all have the same birthday, Greg." Nick slapped him on the back. "You are such a copycat, man."

"Yeah? Well, we were due first."

"I'm happy for you, man. Now you finally have a boy."

"And you have eight boys and one girl." Warrick shook his head. "You're a good man, Nick, but I'm starting to think you're crazy. I do not understand you."

"Where's Grissom?" Greg glanced around.

"He left a bit ago. Took a cab back to the hotel. He said he'll be back in the morning." Catherine snuggled the now-quiet infant closer. "I had forgotten how much I loved this part." She slowly handed the tiny bundle back to Greg. "But I'm sure his mother would like him back now."

"She's asleep, but I definitely am ready for him."

Nick squeezed her arm. "Don't be sad. You can hold one of mine. I have a spare."

Warrick wrapped one long arm around Nick's shoulders. "Nick, Nick, Nick. Let me talk to you about birth control - 'cause if you keep this up, pretty soon they're gonna be showing you and Mandy on Inside Edition, and we don't want that."

Nick's voice took on a slight whine. "Yeah, but I was thinking, what's one more?..."

the end


End file.
